Pall in the Family (9 page)

Tish could be a great listener. She had helped me through some unpleasant times. I was furious with myself for wanting to question her whereabouts on the morning of Sara's death, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she was keeping something from me.

I nodded. “That was nice of you.”

“Well, anyway, sugar, I'd better be on my way. Is Baxter out back?”

“I'll get him for you. I think Seth is playing fetch with him.”

I gathered Baxter's things and went outside to collect him. I was uncomfortable letting Tish go without getting more answers but couldn't see a way past it without openly accusing her.

I found Seth and Tuffy with Baxter in the far corner of the yard playing some version of fetch that seemed to involve Seth chasing the ball about as often as the dogs did.

Tish had followed me outside and when Baxter caught sight of her he loped across the yard and flung himself at her, almost knocking her down in his enthusiasm. He then charged back toward our small group, nudged Tuffy, and trotted back to Tish.

She waved from the back porch. Then they walked around the side of the house and disappeared.

“Do you think he said good-bye to Tuffy?” I asked Seth.

“Of course. They're friends,” he said, and the look he gave me said, “duh.”

With Baxter gone, Tuffy fell into a funk. We
brought him inside to the living room where all attempts to cheer him with toys and treats failed. I was starting to fear we would need Baxter to come live with us for the duration of Tuffy's stay when I heard tires on the gravel again.

Mom opened the door with a loud creak, and quiet voices floated in from the front hall. A moment later, she edged into the living room, tight-lipped and pale.

“Gary Landess is here to take Tuffy,” she said.

Seth put his arm around the dog in a protective gesture, which caused Tuffy to renew his shivering. He must have recognized his name and figured something was up.

I left Seth and found a distraught Gary standing by the door. His hair was thin on top. It stuck up all around his head from running his fingers through the nearly nonexistent strands. A wrinkled and stained gray suit did nothing to improve his appearance. His puffy, red eyes darted around the room as if he were being hunted by some unknown predator.

“Hi, Mr. Landess. I don't know if you remember meeting me.” I stuck out my hand. “I'm Clyde Fortune. I took care of Tuffy for Sara while she was working.” He stared at my hand for a moment before reaching forward to grasp it briefly with a quick, damp squeeze.

“I remember. I met you once—here, over the holidays, I think.” He didn't meet my eyes and mostly examined the floor. “You were living in Ann Arbor then.”

“I'm so sorry about Sara,” I said.

He nodded and sniffed.

“You're here for Tuffy?”

“The police told me yesterday that you were taking care of him. Thank you. I thought I should come get him.” He shrugged.

I imagined the two of them, Tuffy and Gary, sitting in whatever apartment he lived in, staring at each other.

“We're happy to keep him for you if you'd prefer . . . ,” I began, thinking of Seth losing both of his friends in one day.

“No, no, I'll take him.” He squared his shoulders, bracing himself, I assumed. “We'll have to get used to each other again.”

I showed him into the living room. He followed behind, shoulders slumped again. Tuffy looked up as we entered and seemed to shake even more as he leaned closer to Seth.

Gary grimaced a smile, and said, “Here, Tuffy. C'mon, boy.”

Tuffy leaned closer to Seth, his eyes darting from me to Gary.

I felt sad for both of them. I was surprised that he'd fought Sara for custody when clearly Tuffy liked Gary even less than he liked me.

“I brought a bribe. This always works,” Gary said, producing a baggie with bacon in it.

Gary crouched down on one knee, and said, “Here, boy, I've got your favorite. Bacon!”

He shook the bag and then opened it to give Tuffy a good whiff. Tuffy stopped shaking. He sat up straight and sniffed the air. He jumped off the couch and cautiously approached Gary. Seth was sending me all sorts of warning messages with his eyes.
What can I do?
I shrugged back. Tuffy belonged to Gary now.

As Tuffy happily snarfed down a piece of bacon, Gary reached over and picked him up.

“It works every time,” he said. He stood and stuffed the rest of the bacon into his pocket, settling Tuffy more firmly under his arm.

Seth and I walked with Gary and Tuffy to the door. Seth gave Gary the rundown of what Tuffy did and didn't like based on his twenty-four hours of experience. Gary nodded politely and tried to escape with his dog as quickly as possible.

We opened the front door to flashing red and white lights. The police cruiser was pulled up to the front porch, crushing my mother's favorite rose bush under its back tire. Gary was caught in the bright spotlight trained on the door. I spotted Tom Andrews inside the car, placing his bullhorn on the passenger seat. He must have reconsidered its use when we stepped onto the porch.

Officer Andrews walked around the cruiser, tripped over the roses, and got tangled in the thorns. After extricating himself, he bounded up the steps and approached Gary, who stood with his mouth open while trying to keep Tuffy from struggling.

“Gary Landess?”

“Of course I am! You just talked to me this morning.” He shifted Tuffy to his other arm and lowered his eyebrows at Tom.

“You're under arrest for the murder of Sara Landess.” Tom tried to put handcuffs on Gary. Tuffy began to growl and show his teeth.

“Let me take the dog, Tom,” I said.

But as I reached for him, Tuffy growled more and bared his sharp-looking canines. Gary clutched the dog tighter, as if that would save him from what was happening.

We appeared to be in a standoff. Tom held one of Gary's wrists, Gary held Tuffy with his other arm, Tuffy growled and looked like an armpit barracuda, while I fretted over what my mother was going to say about the roses. Fortunately, Seth was there. He stepped forward and put out his arms for Tuffy. Tuffy stopped growling and wiggled enough that Gary had to let go of him, allowing Andrews to get the other cuff on him.

“I have an alibi,” Gary said, arms behind his back.

“Not anymore,” said Tom.

He led Gary down the steps, and said, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used in a court of law. . . .”

* * *

“I knew it!”
Violet said at dinner that night.

We were gathered again around the dining room table, this time minus Baxter but plus Alex. I saw this as an improvement.

“I never trusted him, or liked him,” Vi said around a mouthful of meatloaf.

“It would have been helpful if you'd tipped off the police before they questioned him and then let him go,” I said, just because I was feeling irritable.

“Well, I had no proof. Now that Mac is in charge, no one will listen to anything my clients have to say.” Vi's cheeks flushed pink in outrage.

My stomach dropped at the mention of Mac.

“It's true that things will be different now,” said my mother.

“What do you mean, Nana Rose?” asked Seth.

“There was a time when Crystal Haven had no crime to speak of, and when we did, we knew who the culprits were.” Mom looked from Seth to me. “We didn't need to go around investigating and snooping. It all got worked out. . . .”

My father reached over to pat her hand as she fought back tears. She was in a fragile state this evening. Gary's arrest on her front lawn had disrupted a difficult reading with a client.

I raised my eyebrows in Alex's general direction but covered it by taking a drink. My mother's volatile emotional states had been the subject of intense discussion over the years.

“Tuffy told me ‘bacon.' That's what he said. I should have listened.” Vi punctuated each of these statements with a fist to the table. “And then Gary waltzes in here and gives the dog bacon!” She threw up her hands and looked around the table. “You never should have let him go after that.” Vi waggled her finger at me as if Tuffy had been somehow harmed by the evening's events instead of sitting happily on Seth's lap at the dinner table eating meatloaf.

“What did you want me to do? He's the owner. He came to get his dog.” I reached for, and knocked over, my wine-glass in my agitation; Alex caught it before it could spill but tipped his own water glass in the process. Mom jumped up to get a towel.

“You could use the senses you were given and realize when a murderer is standing in your living room,” Violet said, ignoring the frantic activity around her.

“If you want to know what my
senses
are telling me, I don't think he did it.” I had to lean past Mom and Alex and the mopping frenzy to look Vi in the eye. “I don't care what kind of alibi he does or does not have. It doesn't add up to me. The divorce was over. They'd already had the worst of their conflict. Why would he kill her now?”

“The tarot showed it was a man with money troubles that did it. I heard from Sara that Gary hadn't managed his money very well after the divorce,” Mom said while she refilled the water glass.

“Well, I guess that confirms it. Tuffy said ‘bacon' and your cards clearly identify Gary, so let's just bring all this evidence to the district attorney and we'll be set,” I said.

“There's no reason to get snippy, Clyde. They're just trying to figure this out,” Dad said.

Violet and I were staring at each other, neither one willing to back down.

Alex glanced from me to Vi. He hadn't been in the middle of one of these fights since high school. Seth and Tuffy stared with wide eyes.

“Stop it, both of you,” said my mother. “I agree with Clyde. I'm surprised that Gary is the killer.”

Violet finally broke the stare-off, a win for me.

“Let's not turn on each other here,” said Dad. “The police know what they're doing. They've arrested Gary, and that's that.” He poured another glass of wine, ending the discussion.

I was relieved that Dad felt that way. I hoped we could all go back to normal now that an arrest had been made.

“I know . . . ,” Vi said, and drummed her fingers on the table. “We'll ask the pendulum.”

“Not the pendulum.” Alex groaned. He had not had good luck with the pendulum in the past. It was one of those things that Vi claimed anyone could do, but Alex had never managed to get that thing to swing. He was convinced that everyone else was moving it with their hands and he was the only honest one in the room.

“What's the pendulum?” asked Seth.

“Well, we could do that.” Mom ignored Seth. “It
is
a yes or no question. Did Gary do it or not? I'll go get it.” She hurried into her parlor and came back with a velvet pouch.

She carefully tipped the bag onto the table. A pointed crystal attached to a short chain slid out. Seth's eyes grew wide, my father's eyes closed, and he seemed to be talking to himself.

Vi produced a piece of paper that had a large plus sign on it. One direction indicated
YES
, the other
NO
. Mom and Vi flattened the paper in the middle of the table and muttered to each other about the proper orientation.

“Okay, let's ask the pendulum,” my mother said, surveying the table. “Clyde, do you want to do the honors?” She smiled as if she had offered me cake.

“No. Why don't you let Seth do it?”

Vi and Mom exchanged a glance.

“The boy has never done this. He doesn't know how,” said Vi.

“It's not that hard. He can do it,” I said, holding her gaze. Alex snorted next to me.

“Yeah, let me do it. What do I do?” Seth said, reaching for the crystal.

Mom covered it with her hand. After a pointed look in my direction, she turned to Seth. “Hold the crystal and concentrate on your question.”

She handed the crystal to Seth, careful to touch just the chain, allowing only his energy into the crystal itself. Seth gripped the crystal and closed his eyes in concentration.

“What's the question again?” he asked, one eye popping open.

“Did Gary kill Sara?” Vi told the table as she cradled her head in her hands.

“Oh, right. Got it.” Seth went back to concentrating. It looked painful.

Mom used her soothing voice, and said, “When you're ready, take the end of the chain and dangle the crystal over the center of the paper where the lines meet. Make sure it's very still and that you hold your arm steady. Then ask your question.”

Seth stood and uncoiled the chain, allowing the crystal to swing free. He steadied it and hung it over the center of the paper. The room seemed to hold its breath. We all jumped when Tuffy let out a sharp yip.

Seth's pendulum began to swing from the jerking of his arm.

Vi looked at Tuffy, who was shivering again now that Seth had set him on the floor. “You're fine. This won't take long,” she said to the dog.

Seth stopped the swinging crystal and held it over the paper again.

When it was still he said, “Did Gary kill Sara?”

The pendulum didn't move. We waited. These things took time. After several minutes, my father eased his chair away from the table and snuck off to the living room to read the paper and listen to his police scanner. After a few more minutes, Seth lowered his elbow onto the table.

Tuffy began a low growl but wagged his tail when Seth turned to look at him.

“There's something wrong. Ask again,” said Vi.

“Did Gary kill Sara?” Seth asked, louder this time, as if the pendulum were hard of hearing.

At last, it moved. We all leaned forward to watch. It was subtle but clear. It swung back and forth about an eighth of an inch along the
NO
axis.

“That can't be right. I'll do it,” said Vi as she grabbed the pendulum from Seth.

They wiped down the crystal with the velvet, and Vi took her turn. She got results within seconds.
YES
. We all decided on a tiebreaker. My best friend, Alex the traitor, voted against me, and I was chosen to hold the chain. My mother hadn't looked so proud since I had predicted old Mrs. Dunhill's death. She had been ninety.